Another day of training. Chantille was pushing herself to grow stronger and more agile. Almost every day she would venture out on patrol, and practice her climbing whilst out and about. Within a week, there was improvement, but now, she had almost mastered the skill. Her paws seemed to barely touch the pale brown foothills as she raced along. Her head was raised high; proud and free. With her tail raised, she continued along, scenting the air as she did so.


She loped toward the lower area of the heights, where pine trees began to claim the lands. With a naturally possessed grace, she dodged the trees, a smirk adorning her slender muzzle as she did so. As she began to grow tired, though, she seemed to lazily trot along. A small crack within a stone had escaped her sharp vision, and her right paw caught it, sending her forward. Brows furrowing and eyes narrowing, the wolf thought fast, bracing herself as she fell over the small foothill. All four paws came in contact successfully with the rock below- she did not fall. Laughing lightly to herself, she smiled, sighing in relief.


Taking what could have been an embarrassing face-plant as a sign, Chantille decided to relax for a bit. Panting, the wolf selected a lush pine, circling a few times before laying down.

The cool soil enveloped Chantille as she lay comfortably beneath the pine. The small smile was still upon her face as she rested her head down upon her paws. Releasing a pleased sigh, she began to hum, as she always did when alone. Her tones were sweet; melodic notes like the ones her mother used to lull her to sleep with. Eyes closing, she began to think of her sweet mother, visualizing she and her on a hunt together. Her daydreaming was cut short, though, by the scent of a wolf.


Chantille lifted her lids, blinking before turning her head. The thick needles adorning the pine's branches obscured her vision, rendering her incapable of spotting the multi-colored man. With a grunt, she rose to her white paws, slipping out from beneath the tree. As the wind blew against her, she shook out her pelt, needles flying out and landing on the ground below. She turned now, chocolate eyes peering out into the piney foothills. She breathed lightly, but she could still hear herself inhaling and exhaling.


There you are. Her eyes finally locked on to a wolf, and she was surprised her eyes found him. He blended incredibly well with the surroundings. He appeared to be young, but he was large. Unsure if he was friendly, she took a confident step forth, parting her jaws to speak: "Hello, there." Her sweet voice rang out as she took her step. She watched carefully, ready to flash fangs if this wolf was aggressive.

The handsome young wolf revealed his name right away. Smiling politely, she dipped her head whilst introducing herself. "It's a pleasure, Sloane. I am Chantille Idasis" her name rolled off her tongue, and she watched his every move. He seemed relaxed; non-aggressive. Good. Feeling more comfortable, Chantille stepped to the right, walking towards the wolf. After about seven steps, she paused, tail wagging slightly. "Mind if I ask what you're doing all the way up here? Most wolves hate the travel." Chantille released a slight chuckle, her dark brown gaze aglow with joy. She was always happy; always optimistic.


Turning away from Sloane, she brought her nose to the ground, picking up the scent of rabbit. Flicking her fluffed tail quickly, she sniffed in deeply, letting the scent remain in her nose. Perhaps she would follow it later. Her head slowly raised back up, and the creamy woman brought her body to face the man again. She seated herself gently, rump resting upon the earth. Tail tucked itself across her left haunch as Chant awaited to hear Sloane's response.

Chantille shook her head "Oh, no, no. You are far from the borders, Sloane. I just tend to come out here to improve my skill navigating these darn mountains!" Her face lit up at her own words. Chantille was proud of herself for focusing on improving her physical skills. All it took was pushing one's self, and anything seemed possible. At least to the creamy woman it seemed that way. She felt her tail impulsively wag; she was enjoying this young man's company. Looking to the sky, Chant watched as a wispy white cloud drifted slowly by in the blue sky. "There's a place here called Fireweed Rise. Have you been there?"


At her own words, her tail continued to sway, but at a slower rate now. "It's beautiful. Flowers in the brightest red shades your eyes would ever see." As she spoke, Chant could feel herself walking through the rise. It was an open area, adorned with hundreds of thousands of those blood red flowers. Chantille had a keen eye for nature and all things beautiful...it was what helped in part of her remaining so positive. Eyes falling from the sky back to Sloane, she was curious if he had been to the rise. Him being a man, it was likely a no... Well, he probably would not appreciate the flowers as much as she did.

Chantille shrugged her shoulders lightly before rising back to her feet. She placed her front paws forward, and bowed, jaws widening in a yawn. After her stretch, she shook out her coat. The remaining pine needles fled from her creamy fur. "I haven't been lingering far from here" she admitted. Perhaps she should go out and venture a bit; it seemed Poison Path was alright with wandering away for a bit. Looking back to the mountains behind her, she sighed before bringing her chocolate gaze back to Sloane.


"I'm not sure why, but I prefer open spaces....fields and such." She hoped that she wasn't boring Sloane. The mottled male seemed to be warming up to conversation, though, and that pleased her. She always enjoyed a good talk, even if it was with a loner. Besides, other members of her pack always seemed to be returning from places even farther away, with mysterious scents of other wolves upon their coats.


She stepped forward to Sloane now, testing to see how comfortable he was within her presence. Perhaps he could be a new friend- she'd love that. Chantille was always one for making new companions.